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“ The floating clouds their state shall lend
To her, for her the willow bend,
Nor shall she fail to see,
Even in the motions of the storm,
A beauty that shall mould her form
By silent sympathy..

The stars of midnight shall be dear To her, and she shall lean her ear In many a secret place Where rivulets dance their wayward round, And beauty born of murmuring sound Shall pass

into her face.

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* And vital feelings of delight
Shall rear her form to stately height,
Her virgin bosom swell,
Such thoughts to Lucy I will give
While she and I together live
Here in this happy dell."

Thus Nature spake~The work was donem
How soon my Lucy's race was run!
She died and left to me
This heath, this calm and quiet scene,
The memory of what has been,
And never more will be.



THE dew was falling fast, the stars began to

blink; I heard a voice, it said, Drink, pretty Crea

ture! drink: And looking o'er the hedge, before me I es

pied, A snow-white mountain Lamb with a Maiden

at its side.

No other sheep were near, the Lamb was all

alone, And by a slender cord was tether’d to a stone; With one knee on the grass did the little Mai

den kneel, While to that mountain Lamb she gave its

evening meal.

The Lamb while from her hand he thus his

supper took

Seem'd to feast with head and ears, and his

tail with pleasure shook. “ Drink, pretty Creature ! drink,” she said in

such a tone That I almost receiv'd her heart into my own.

'Twas little Barbara Lewthwaite, a child of

beauty rare, I watch'd them with delight, they were a love

ly pair. And now with empty Can the Maiden turn'd

away, But ere ten yards were gone her footsteps: did

she stay.

Towards the Lamb she look'd, and from that

shady place I unobserv'd could see the workings of her

face: If Nature to her tongue could measured.num..bers bring Thus, thought I, to her Lamb that little Maid

would sing.

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" What ails thee Young-one,-What? Why

pull so at thy cord? Is it not well with thee? Well both for bed

and board? Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass

can be, Rest little Young-one, rest! What is’t that

aileth thee?

" What is it thou would'st seek? What is -wanting to thy heart? Thy limbs are they not strong? And beautiful

thou art: This grass is tender grass, these flowers they

have no peers,

And that green corn all day is rustling in thy


“ If the Sun is shining hot, do but stretch thy

woollen chain, This beech is standing by, its covert thou

canst gain; For rain and mountain storms, the like thou

need'st not fear, The rain and storm are things which scarcely « Rest, little Young-one, rest! Thou hast

can come here.

forgot the day When my father found thee first in places far

away: Many flocks are on the hills, but thou wert

own'd by none, And thy Mother from thy side for evermore

was gone.

“ He took thee in his arms, and in pity brought

thee home, A blessed day for thee! then whither would'st

thou roam? A faithful nurse thou hast, the dam that did

thee yean

Upon the mountain tops no kinder could have


• Thou know'st that twice a day I have

brought thee in this Can Fresh water from the brook, as clear as ever

ran; And twice in the day when the ground is wet

with dew, I bring thee draughts of milk, warm milk it

is and new.

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